Closing In On The L Word
by rainbowcolored7
Summary: Bill recieves a gift for Christmas from an unlikely person, and is thrown into a new whirlwind of emotions, and possibilities while Tom suffers the consequences. BillBushido. BillTom. Twincest. Slash.


**Chapter One**

Bill sat by the heater in his hotel room, trying to pretend it was a fireplace that was blazing high with majestic flame. He was waiting for the call, the call that would tell him he could finally go home. It was two days before Christmas Eve, and his body itched to sleep in his own bed, and relax with his family. He was dying to curl up next to the fire with a cup of his Mother's peppermint hot cocoa, and Tom pressed up against his shoulder as they shared the glowing heat.

Bill sighed, leaning his heavy head against the wall, willing his phone to ring.

"Ring, ring, _ring_ _mother fucker_, ring." he chanted, hitting his head against the wall in time with his voice, but he got his wish as his phone rang loudly. Bill jumped, making a mad dash for his purse on the bed. He didn't bother checking the ID.

"Hello?" he spoke, brightly.

"Hey Bill. You have some mail waiting for you at the front desk. Do you want me to bring it up?" Gustav asked. He'd gone out shopping for last minute Christmas gifts.

"Oh, sure. Thanks." Bill murmured, dejectedly. He was now thoroughly disappointed. He'd really been hoping that call was Jost with his ticket home.

"Yeah. See you in a minute." said Gustav, quickly.

Bill hung up, plopping down onto the messy bed, and waited some more. He really hated waiting. These days it felt like all he ever did was wait, and waiting was tiring. Bill yawned, curling onto his side, closing his eyes against the dim lighting. He could have easily fallen asleep if it wasn't for his anxiousness to hear from Jost or the fact Gustav was bringing him mail.

Bill furrowed his brow, it struck him odd that mail for him had been given to the front desk, when normally it was sent to the band's address and filtered through by security. So it had to be from someone he knew or someone that knew him closely. Maybe Gustav had gotten him a present and had just told Bill it was mail as a cover, but the band had already exchanged gifts, so that couldn't be it. Gustav liked him, but he didn't like him _that_ much. Bill chuckled a little to himself at the thought of his friend showering him with presents.

A knock on the door pulled Bill sharply out of his thoughts. Gracefully, he padded over to the door, pulled it open and smiled down at the blonde. Gustav smiled back, and held out his mail for him. Bill raised his eyebrows as he took it, running his fingers over a small, soft, velvet box and an envelope.

"Did you ask who it was from?" Bill asked, eyeing the small package suspiciously, then the card. He didn't recognize the handwriting.

"Of course I did." said Gustav, sounding a little offended.

"So, who is it from?" Bill pressed on, tipping his head down expectantly.

Gustav shrugged, shoving the hand that wasn't holding bags in his jacket pocket.

"The receptionist said he didn't leave his name, but that he was tall, muscular, and had dark hair and skin. Oh, and she thought she saw a tattoo on his neck." he replied, his brown eyes twinkling knowingly.

Bill raised both of his eyebrows, surprise looming over his face. The vague description was all too familiar to him.

"Oh, OK. Well, thank you." Bill murmured, looking down at the little box and envelope in his hand.

"You're welcome. See you later." said Gustav, walking away with a slight grin.

Bill nodded, closing the door, his eyes glued to the objects in his palm. Why had Bushido sent him, what appeared to be, a gift? They weren't necessarily friends, let alone close acquaintances. Bill didn't understand. Maybe it was a joke. Yes, of course, it had to be. Bushido wouldn't really send him a Christmas present, would he? Bill shook his head, figuring there was only one way to find out.

Fingering the stiff envelope tentatively, he took a deep breath and dug his long fingernails into the paper. The card was simple, but pretty, covered in artistic designs that looked like tree branches stripped bare by the winter gusts. Bill couldn't help but smile a little at the femininity of the cover; it seemed so unlike Bushido. Although his stomach trembled a little as he flipped up the cover and began reading the neat script.

"_Dear Bill, _

_Wishing you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Year. The little black box is for you for Christmas. You can open it early if you can't wait. Give my best wishes to Tom, and the rest._

_Love, Bushido."_

"Love? _Love_?" Bill enunciated, his eyes wide and bright. He knew Bushido was friendly towards him, maybe a little too friendly sometimes, but it seemed odd even for him to sign a card with 'love' unless maybe it was for his Mother.

Bill was still fairly convinced that it was a joke, and when he opened the box it'd be something stupid like a tampon, making fun of his androgynous appearance or a condom with a note attached, offering to take his virginity, even though he wasn't a virgin. Bill set the card aside, and went back to fingering the soft, black velvet surrounding the hard box. It was one of those boxes that normally held engagement rings or some other fanciful thing that you give to someone you hold intimately close to your heart. Bill actually hoped it would be something stupid, and not something nice, because if it was nice he couldn't accept it. If he accepted something nice from Bushido he'd probably want something in return, and Bill wouldn't know what to give him, and if he wanted _that _from him then he'd just have to turn him down, and return the gift anyway. He really, really hoped it was a tampon or something.

"Please, please…" Bill muttered as he closed his eyes, and lifted the stiff lid open. He took a deep, hopeful breath, praying it was a joke, and opened one eye slightly, taking a peak at the box.

"Oh my God." Bill breathed, his voice suddenly disappearing from shock.

Lying delicately inside the velvet box was a shining, silver bracelet, and it appeared to have diamonds embedded all over it. It was gorgeous, and as Bill picked it up it caught the dim light and sparkled brightly, reflecting on the pale walls. It was like his room had just been decorated with every star in the evening sky, and Bill's eyes were the moon. His mouth hung open, and his breath got caught up in his throat. This was ridiculous, it had to be a joke, and even if it wasn't, there was no way in Hell he could accept something so beautiful from Bushido. There was just no way.

Bill pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, sucking on it thoughtfully as his eyes stayed glued to the bracelet. He would have to return it, no question about it, but maybe he could wait until after the Christmas rush; it would get back to him sooner that way. Yes, that would be fine. He'd just keep it till after Christmas, and then he'd send it back.

Bill's lips curled into a smile. There was no harm in wearing it in the meantime, since he was going to send it back anyway. Bill ran his tongue stud over his teeth in concentration, fastening the clasp, and held his arm out in front of him to inspect its beauty.

It was smooth, and it felt good against his skin as it slid around his arm. For an instant he wished he could keep it, before the rational part of his mind kicked the idea out his ears. There was no way he could keep it, no matter how exquisite it was or how fabulous it looked on him. Bill sighed; really wishing it had been a tampon.

----

The next morning the band was up early to catch a flight back home, and the energy was running high from excitement, although Bill was thinking about other things as well that made his skin tingle. He'd been flashing his bracelet as much as he could without being too obvious about the new addition. He was dying to show everybody, but was too afraid that a lurking photographer would catch him, and Bushido would see it on the 'Bill weekly special' in some magazine. It wouldn't do his plan any good if that were to happen.

Bill settled himself next to Tom, sliding closer to his side, even though the first class seat allowed him enough room to scoot the other way.

"Did you want something?" Tom asked, disdainfully. Tom didn't particularly like planes or plane rides or anything that involved him being too close to the clouds.

"No, I'm fine." Bill crooned, resting his chin in his palm with a small smile.

Tom glared at him, but was distracted by the sudden sparkle as Bill's jacket sleeve slipped enough to expose his new bracelet. Bill had been hoping he'd notice.

"Is that new?" Tom asked, reaching out to touch it, but Bill pulled his arm into his lap.

"What, this old thing? Yeah." he grinned, running his slender fingers over the prismatic gems.

"Are those real? You didn't buy it, did you?" Tom asked, his tone berated.

"No! Of course not. It's Christmas. I'm not _that _selfish, Tomi." Bill pouted, pretending to be offended.

"Then who's it from? You didn't have it yesterday," he said, incisively.

"No one. It doesn't matter anyway, I have to give it back." Bill sighed, slumping down in his seat.

"From a fan then?"

"You could say that." Bill muttered, glancing up at his brother, feeling his curiosity vibrating in his brain.

"Fuck Bill, just _tell_ me. Whoever gave that to you obviously adores you. That bracelet is shiny and expensive, and probably took a lot of time to save up for." Tom ranted, sounding almost envious.

"Well, it probably didn't take _that_ long." Bill muttered, mostly to himself.

"Bill-" Tom sighed, becoming agitated.

"OK! I know," Bill groaned. "It was Bushido."

"_Bushido_?" Tom exclaimed, loudly.

"Ssh! I'd like it if this was kept quiet." Bill snapped, bringing his face closer to Tom's.

"Right. It might be bad if the press found out he sent you a diamond bracelet. Oh, for fuck's sake Bill! He sent you a _diamond bracelet, _I don't think he's joking anymore." Tom grumbled, rubbing his temple.

Bill breathed out heavily, and rested his head on his brother's shoulder, his thick dreads acting as a cushion. Tom relaxed a little, tilting his head against Bill's.

"I don't think he was ever joking, Tomi." Bill whispered, oddly, like he was intrigued, but frightened and surprised all at once.

"Maybe."

Bill sighed, closing his eyes, running his fingers over the cool metal, warmed from his body, and wondered why Bushido had chosen him of all the people in the industry. It had to be Bill, and although it confused him, he couldn't deny it made his stomach flutter curiously. Although he wasn't sure he liked that, at all.

----

_**Christmas Eve Day**_

Tom watched Bill from across the kitchen table as he pushed the cheerios around his bowl with his spoon. He'd barely eaten a bite, and Tom was on his second helping. He knew Bill was thinking about the bracelet, which still hung elegantly on his wrist. He hadn't taken it off since they'd gotten home, and now he wouldn't stop watching it glitter as he twirled his spoon. Bushido was on his mind too, it was clearly written all over his face, and Tom could feel his anxiety burning in his bones.

"Why don't you take it off? It's distracting you." Tom suggested, setting his spoon down.

Bill raised his head, catching Tom's eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"I know, I know, I should. I just-" Bill stammered, dropping his temple into his palm.

"Maybe you should send it back sooner."

"I can't."

"Call Jost and-"

"I can't Tom. Jost went home for Christmas too. It wouldn't be considerate of me to ask him to send Bushido's gift back to him on Christmas." Bill interrupted, his forehead wrinkled with exasperation.

Tom was silent, his glinting eyes boring down on Bill's slumped figure. He could almost hear his thoughts.

"Bill, you have to give it back," he said, sternly.

"I know." he muttered, looking defeated.

"Unless you _want_ to start dating a rapper with a police record?" said Tom, raising his brows.

Bill kicked him underneath the table, and threw a soggy cheerio at his face, a small smirk on his lips.

"Shut up Tom, I'm not gay." he snapped, glowering at his brother.

Tom nodded, reaching out his hand, palm facing up. Bill's eyes looked at him widely, full of understanding as if he could read Tom's mind from the simplest of gestures. Daintily, he placed his hand into Tom's open palm, his smooth fingers brushing against the soft, un-callused flesh of his thin wrist. Tom curled his long fingers around Bill's hand, holding it gently as he pulled it closer to examine the shiny gift. He ran his fingertips over the jewels lightly, barely touching them.

"It really is pretty, isn't it." Tom stated, stroking the palm of Bill's hand with his free fingers.

Bill shivered, smiling dreamily at their hands, and the bracelet. "Yeah." he said, sucking in his lower lip.

"You know, if you got something for him, maybe you could keep it." Tom suggested, brightly.

"I wouldn't know what to get him. I don't know anything about the guy, and he's so strange." Bill whined, although he looked thoughtful. The suggestion was appealing, even though he'd thought of it before.

"Ask him."

Bill scoffed, shaking his head. "You know what he'd say if I asked him what he wanted for Christmas."

Tom laughed, earning him another kick to the shin. "Ow, what? It's funny." he chuckled.

"No, it's not! He said he wanted me to suck him off, to everyone! It's embarrassing." Bill moaned, flushing straight to his ears, which only made Tom laugh harder.

"Oh, come on Bill, that had to be a joke. There's no way he could seriously want you to suck him off." he wheezed, overly amused by Bill's embarrassment.

Bill's face grew cold, his eyes flashing to stone. With a quick jerk, he pulled his hand away forcefully.

"It's not funny!" he barked, pushing out his chair and taking off towards his room.

Tom's laughter quickly fizzled out; his ears left ringing in the abrupt silence. Bill had looked genuinely hurt, and angry. Tom didn't understand. Bill didn't even like Bushido that much; it should have been funny for him too, but his eyes had said something else entirely. Tom was missing something, and Bill wasn't letting him on the mystery; he didn't understand at all.

Upstairs, behind his closed door, Bill was just as confused. He stared fixatedly at the bracelet adorning his slender wrist like it had just spoken to him, disturbing thoughts running through his head. He'd been forced to get away from Tom before his brother had noticed them too. Bill was surprised, and frightened by what had gone through his head when Tom had said that Bushido hadn't really wanted him to suck him off, because for an instant, a millisecond, he'd actually wanted Bushido to be telling the truth.

----

_**Christmas Eve Night **_

"Alright boys, go ahead." said Simone, smiling brightly.

Bill quickly dug his fingernails into the wrapping paper, making short duty of it, while Tom struggled with excessive amounts of tape. They were opening their one present allowed on Christmas Eve, and taking little time to do it.

Bill smiled, pulling a new studded belt out of the box he'd chosen. "Thanks Mom." he said, getting up to give her a hug.

"You're welcome, honey." she whispered, glad to have her boys home for the holidays. It had been much too long since she'd been able to hold them in her arms.

"Mom?" said Tom, holding up an oddly shaped, rubber contraption.

"Yes, dear?" she answered, doing her best to conceal her laughter. Tom's confused, and slightly frightened expression was priceless.

"What is it?" he asked, eyeing the odd thing suspiciously. It looked like some kind of kinky sex toy.

"It's a pressure point massage tool. You're always hunched over playing that guitar of yours, I thought it would help any sore muscles." she explained, innocently. Simone knew all too well what was going through her eighteen year old son's mind.

"Oh, OK. Thanks Mom." said Tom, breathing in his relief.

"You're welcome. Now, I'm off to bed, and you two should be too. Santa Claus won't come unless you're asleep." Simone grinned, winking.

"Mom." the twins groaned, in unison. They rolled their eyes at her attempt to re-live their childhood, when they still believed in such magical things.

"Goodnight boys. Gordon will be home soon." she said, behind a yawn.

"'Night." they chorused, settling in on the couch.

Bill sighed, leaning into Tom as he yawned, and stretched his long legs over the armrest.

"It's nice to be home." Tom muttered, breathing into Bill's waves of hair.

"Yeah. I miss Mom, and my bed. I really hate the bus." Bill sighed, rolling his head back, his cheek pressed up against the back of the couch.

"Think you can stand being in a different bed for one more night?" Tom asked, his voice quiet with sleep. Bill nodded.

"If you really want me to, yeah." he replied, sleep leaking into his voice as well.

"I really do."

Bill yawned again, and groaned as he pulled his legs beneath him and stood up.

"Come on then, let's go. I'm gonna fall asleep standing." he muttered, holding out his hand.

Tom smiled, sinking lower onto the couch. Bill rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on. I'm too tired for this. Get off your fat ass." Bill groaned, letting his hand fall to his side with a smack.

"I can't, I've broken my legs." Tom whined, sprawling out even more, his head lolling from side to side.

Bill sighed, scrunching up his nose in annoyance.

"You're an asshat, I hope you know." he growled as he did what Tom wanted, and forced his arms between his limp noodle of a brother and the couch, pulling him up.

Tom drooped, all of his weight being pushed into his legs, making Bill stumble a little, his slender arms straining to hold him up.

"You love me anyway." said Tom, wrapping his arms around Bill's neck.

"Unfortunately." he snickered, dragging Tom towards the stairs, slowly.

"Hurry up." Tom complained, pinching the sensitive skin on Bill's neck, where their band's symbol was tattooed.

"Ow! I swear Tom, I will drop you. Use your god damn legs or I'm going to leave you on the stairs and hog your bed so you can't sleep there." Bill retorted, grunting as Tom became heavier when he reached the stairs.

"But then I'll be lonely, _and _have broken legs." Tom smiled, enjoying their play while it lasted. It never lasted long enough.

"Good. Maybe then you'll learn to be an adult and use your fucking legs to walk up stairs to bed." Bill panted, almost halfway up the staircase.

"I can't use them if they're broken, Billy." Tom whispered, into Bill's hair that covered his face. He blew a few strands out of his nose.

Bill laughed defeatedly, and collapsed onto his butt, sitting a stair above Tom. Tom grinned up at him, his eyes warmly luxurious, and loving. Bill dropped his head, resting his forehead against his brother's, and breathed in his air, soaking up the warmth radiating off his body.

"You're lucky no one but the band knows you're such a dork. Your fans would disown you." Bill breathed, tugging on a couple long dreads.

"You sure they're not already on to me?" he asked, twirling a blonde piece of Bill's hair between his fingers.

"Maybe a little. You better watch out or I'll steal all of your groupies." he uttered, barely above a whisper.

Tom sighed, his appendages tingling softly from their close proximity. He felt drunkenly happy, which hadn't happened since the last time they'd been home. His eyes drooped, his vision becoming blurry as his eyelashes obscured his sight. Bill's head slid to the side, his nose digging into a soft cheek, his own eyes withering. Tom could feel Bill's tepid breath ghosting across his skin, sticking to the wetness of his parted lips. He felt magical in his sleepy state, and he couldn't remember the last time they'd gotten caught up in this kind of atmosphere, where everything was warm, and fuzzy and the air was easier to breathe. He couldn't remember the last time they'd been so close, and he couldn't allow himself to not take advantage of the moment.

Barely having to move, he tilted his chin up, bumping it against Bill's, and connected their softly chapped lips. Bill melted into it, separating their lips just enough to, very slowly, brush his own back and forth over Tom's. Tom breathed out, knowing that Bill was breathing his air as he caressed his mouth with supple brushes. He loved it when Bill inhaled his breath, like he was trying to call out his soul from the deepest caverns in his body.

Bill exhaled heavily, and molded their lips together again, feeling both of their bodies shiver at the contact.

"Tom." Bill whispered, sinking further into Tom's bubble.

"Hm?" he answered, kissing at his bottom lip.

"I'm falling asleep."

Tom sighed out his nose, wrapping his hand around the nape of Bill's neck, pulling him forward into a deep, sensual kiss before he pulled away completely, and stood up.

"Come on." he said, smiling though a hazy stupor. He felt almost high.

Bill grinned, reaching for his hand, and pulled himself up, leading them both to Tom's bedroom, and to warm dreams.


End file.
